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Page 88
Kenny went through the dark hallway to Adam's room with cat-like tread,
the searchlight that had been a part of his road equipment in his
pocket, a bag of wood-ash, purloined the day before from Hannah's
kitchen, and the battered box tucked unobtrusively beneath his coat.
He locked himself in and drew a long, gasping breath of intense relief.
Though wind creaks startled him again and again as he made a pedestal
of faded books for his searchlight and directed its glaring circle upon
the blackened wall of the fireplace, no dreaded hand upon the knob
disturbed him.
He worked noiselessly and with care, removing the lower bricks with his
penknife.
Brick after brick he loosened, burrowing deep in the solid wall; then
with infinite care and patience he walled the money in, filled the
crevices with wood-ash and hid the remaining bricks in the chimney.
He went down to supper with an unusual air of calm, but his head was
aching badly. Hughie, Joan said, was nearing the last dot. He was
discouraged and Hannah was cross. Kenny toyed absently with the food
upon his plate.
"Mavourneen," he said, "I'm wondering."
"Wondering what, Kenny?"
"If perhaps the chart isn't purposely misleading--"
"Like Uncle's hints to you?"
"Yes."
"I hadn't thought of it."
"Every clue we have found has sent us out of doors."
"Would he, I wonder, Kenny, hide the money in the house?"
"I'm wondering too."
"The sitting room!"
"There," admitted Kenny, "he was often alone."
"Kenny, shall we look to-night?"
Kenny had his moment of doubt.
"We'll ask Hughie," he said.
And so with Hannah scoffing but noticeably on ahead with the lamp, they
climbed the stairs and tore the room to pieces--to no avail. In a
final burst of inspiration Hughie dragged the faded carpet from its
tacks and filled the room with dust. Sneezing and coughing, they faced
each other in the melee with looks of blank discouragement. Even
Kenny's inexhaustible energy and excitement seemed on the point of
waning. He stared drearily at the fireplace.
"It's cold in here," he said, shivering.
"Yes," said Joan, "we should have built a fire."
"The fireplace!" cried Hughie hoarsely.
"It's too late now," said Kenny irritably. "I'm chilled through."
"No, no, Mr. O'Neill, I'm not meaning the fire. It's the one place we
haven't looked."
"It won't hurt none to look, Mr. O'Neill," urged Hannah, who knew that
Kenny's energy was subject to undependable ebb and now. "If Hughie
goes out of here with that fireplace on his mind, he'll dream all night
about it."
Kenny strode to the fireplace with Hughie at his heels and jerked
impatiently at the mantel. It was sturdy and unyielding.
"I feared so," he said with a shrug.
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